that car with my own eyes. What reason would she have for her actions other than what I’ve already figured out? Elena wanted out and saw Viktor’s lust for her as the perfect escape route.
Still, the need to make sure I’m not wrong makes me snatch up the tablet and unlock it. The same videos feeds from the control room are framed in the screen, and each one plays in sequence. For the first few viewings, I can only see a woman executing the perfect plan to gain her freedom. I white-knuckle-grip the tablet with an aching jaw, torturing myself by taking in every detail.
I toss the thing aside with a grunt, annoyed with myself and with Jaime for trying to convince me there was anything more there than what it seemed. It isn’t until I stand up to walk away that my gaze falls to the second-to-last feed from the camera overlooking the foyer. The frame is frozen to show Elena standing in front of that mirror, checking herself over before she walks out of my life.
It struck me as inconsequential the first half-dozen times I watched it, but something about it in stillness doesn’t sit right with me. Why would a woman who’s desperate to escape her batshit crazy, mobster husband stop to look in the mirror before leaving? A sane woman would have run screaming through those doors and vaulted through the window of the waiting car, not even bothering to use the door handle. She would have looked back while she walked down the front steps, searching for eyes pinned to her from one of the upstairs windows.
Picking up the tablet, I play the video of her in front of the mirror. When first walking up to it, her shoulders are slumped and her head lowered. Looking at her reflection, Elena’s chest swells with a deep breath before her shoulders go straight, her proud chin lifting with defiance. It’s as if she’s working up the courage to leave. Then comes the footage of her walking down the front steps to get in the car. Her steps are slow and her body is stiff. She doesn’t look confident and bold, or desperate. She looks … timid. Afraid. Unsure?
“Why didn’t you look back, gatita?” I murmur at the screen, leaning closer and watching over and over.
It happens the same way each time: Elena walking to the door, Viktor rolling down the window. Elena doesn’t get into the car right away. She doesn’t wrench the door open and jump in. She seems to wait for direction. For Viktor to tell her to get into the car.
My body is already moving, even before the truth finally clicks in my mind. I rip the door open and rush to the stairs with my heart in my throat and my insides frozen over. My anger flames hotter, but the gasoline that’s poured over it is mixed with fear and guilt.
I nearly knock into Jovan rushing into the control room, where I find Jaime and two others working at the various computers.
“I was just on my way—”
“Elena didn’t leave with Viktor willingly!” I blurt, cutting Jovan off. “He took her. He fucking came right up to my front door and took her!”
Jovan places steadying hands on my shoulders, seeming to sense I’m about to lose my shit. If I thought I was spinning out of control before, the sensation is ten times worse now that I know what really happened here.
“We found them,” Jovan says, giving me a little shake. “That’s what I was coming to tell you. There’s a beach house where Oleg vacations with his family for the holidays. It’s isolated and far enough out of the city for Viktor to feel safe there. Are you sure he took her? It didn’t look that way in the video.”
“I watched it again,” I reply, giving Jaime a nod. “Again and again. She wasn’t running. All the times she ran, none of them were like this. Why is that?”
“There’s no camera in the bedroom,” Jaime says with a shrug. “But … her phone. Why would she have left it behind? I took the encryption off like you asked me to, and that enabled him to call her. He could have told her anything to convince her to leave without a fight.”
“Exactly. He has her because he knows I’ll follow. It’s a trap.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Jovan asks, a hand resting on the pistol holstered at his hip.